


Fear and Fodlanese

by sambharsobs



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Languages and Linguistics, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 07:43:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20904095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambharsobs/pseuds/sambharsobs
Summary: "How are you so brave all the time? I cried because a bird flew too close when I was sketching. But y-you, you don't hesitate, ever. Even when you left Brigid, even when we were outnumbered on the battlefield, and even now, when so many of your people look to you for guidance… I just… How?"The silence that followed was broken by a laugh."That does not mean I am not scared, my sweet lamb."





	Fear and Fodlanese

**Author's Note:**

> its called Fodlanese and that's that on that

"And what about Ferdinand?"

"Ah, um-"

Bernadetta tried not to look at the dictionary on the desk.

"He has w-wellness." She stumbled over the last word, the foreign syllable caught in her tongue.

Petra reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Her smile is gentle, and it stills Bernadetta's racing heart. She isn't upset that she hadn't got the word right. But then again, Petra is never angry at her.

The language classes began soon after she gave up the Varley inheritance. Leaving Fodlan behind and crossing the sea hadn't originally been a part of the plan, but she had done it, she had taken the leap of faith, and Petra's soft, amber eyes had calmed her fears then, too.

_ "Why are you being a Duchess when you can be a Queen?" _

Oh Goddess, her knees still go weak at the memory.

Petra had suggested the idea of teaching each other. Despite her land's new freedom, she still had a lot of trade discussions with the Fodlanese nobility, and Bernadetta had much to learn when it came to matters of Brigid. The plants, she knew by heart. The culture, she was picking up. But the language was still out of reach, despite their nightly sessions.

"I am glad to hear it. How is Dorothea doing?"

"Her- She-"

Of course Petra had mastered the language faster than her. Petra was smart, hardworking and determined. Of course Bernie would still be fumbling with basic sentence structures. She was slow, lazy and stupid.

Another gentle caress brought her back. Chocolate cake aside, this shade of chocolate was easily her favourite.

"She has wellness as well. Her- She is performing her songs when I was being there. She is saying-"

Bernadetta bit her lip, feeling her cheeks warming despite Brigid's humidity. Petra giggled.

"What did she say, my sweet lamb?" The nickname was a direct translation of a Brigid term of endearment, and only resulted in flustering her further.

"She is saying it is going to charm all those who possess eyes." Better not say the exact words Dorothea had used, Bernadetta decided. She was already a little weak, having not seen her wife - oh, the word made her soar - for three months.

Petra's smile widened with intent. It made Bernadetta anxious, and she turned towards the books on the table before them.

A calloused finger hooked her chin and directed her gaze back at caramel eyes, which twinkled with mischief.

"That's what I tell everyone here about you, too."

Bernadetta let out a small squeak as strong arms pulled her onto the Queen's lap. A gentle kiss fell on her neck.

"Y-You are becoming a flirtatious...person," mumbled Bernadetta. Another kiss, this time at her pulse point, made her shudder.

"Am I wrong in saying that you are charming?" hummed Petra.

Bernadetta swallowed. She should remain silent and let it go, should let Petra's warm breath spread across her body, should allow a sweet reunion with her wife without spoiling the mood-

"I am merely...a scaredy-cat." The words spill out.

The Brigid word stung her tongue, and she pushed herself away from Petra. No matter how many times Petra praised her fighting ability, or reminded her people of Bernadetta's help in saving their last king, or the smiles she got from the few friends she had made here, the words from those who still mistrusted Fodlan natives hurt, and made her feel small, and made her feel inadequate, because she was Petra's wife and Petra deserved more than Queen Scaredy-Cat, she deserved someone like Edelgard or Dorothea and not stupid, stupid Bernie-

"My sweet lamb, please don't say that," whispered Petra, gently stroking her hip. "They didn't see you in the final battle, how you held the bow so confidently, how your eyes-"

Bernadetta gave up the charade of speaking in a language she didn't deserve to be a part of.

"I cried so much before the battle. I was so afraid that I almost didn't report for it. A-And even afterwards, I couldn't stand up to my father, you had to do it for me, because I was so scared, and I'm so stupid, and I'm so sorry that you have me for a wife because I'm so usless and-"

Petra's lips covered hers, and she was pulled closer. It was something she had done ever since they had been dating, when Bernadetta's hysteria got out of hand and she would not listen to Petra. _ It is stopping the words and showing that I am loving you, together_, she had said softly.

Bernadetta shivered at her wife's touch, still so gentle and so kind. Petra released her and her head dropped to her sun-kissed neck, tears spoiling her royal attire, she should clean that, she should stop crying, she-

"Do not say that ever again," mumbled Petra. "I am lucky to have someone like you by my side. You are never a burden. Never think otherwise. Never, ever again."

"I'm sorry," sniffed Bernadetta. "I-Its just…"

Warm fingers ran through her hair. "I will tell them to stop that immediately. I never want to hear that word in this land again."

"N-No, please, th-that would be worse. They'd think I was some loser who just complains to her wife and-"

"My lamb, you are no loser. Please, stop these harsh words. You know how much...how much...they hurt me to hear."

"I'm sorry. I-I mean- I… How do you do it?"

A silence fills the air. Petra has not stopped stroking her head. "Do what?"

"How are you so brave all the time? I cried because a bird flew too close when I was sketching. But y-you, you don't hesitate, ever. Even when you left Brigid, even when we were outnumbered on the battlefield, and even now, when so many of your people look to you for guidance… I just… How?"

The silence that followed was broken by a laugh.

"That does not mean I am not scared, my sweet lamb."

Bernadetta leaned back to look at Petra's face for signs of sarcasm.

"You, scared?" she said incredulously. Petra was never scared. With a firm fixture of her brow, Petra would strike down every enemy in her path. A hard, cutting glare would halt even the most blood-thirsty battalions. Her roaring voice, deep and mellifluous, would strike fear across battlefields. Petra was not a scaredy-cat like her.

"Yes, me, scared," she said, pulling Bernadetta closer.. "I am scared of many things - disappointing my people, disgracing my family name, the future of Brigid…"

Bernadetta laughed bitterly. Of course Petra's fears were so noble and honourable. Petra wasn't so scared of the ocean that she had jumped into a barrel at the port.

"But those are different from what you feel, correct?" she said, holding her cheek, still so soft. "I…am embarrassed, because I am a hunter, but I am afraid of crocodiles."

"Crocodiles?"

"Their meat is delicious and their skin is valuable, but… Their eyes frighten me greatly. Not to mention that once they bite, they will never let go."

Bernadetta shuddered and snuggled into her wife's neck. "I'm scared of them too, now."

"Have no fear, my sweet lamb. They stay in the marshlands on the East coast."

"They don't run fast, do they?" Petra shook her head, and Bernadetta relaxed. So warm. She had missed this.

"However…" Petra's voice had an odd quality to it. "There is one fear that is bigger than the rest."

Bernadetta sat up, and saw downcast lips. She thumbed them gently. Petra grasped her hand and pressed her lips against Bernadetta's fingers, almost reverently. It made her feel light-headed.

"Fodlanese is a strange language. The words are...stiff, and the sentences have odd patterns. But I learned it, first, to survive, then, for my people, and now…for you, my sweet lamb."

"M-Me?" Bernadetta blinked. Petra pressed another kiss to her fingertips, this time, harder.

"You worry about many things. And I want to quell those worries. But not knowing how to calm you bothers me greatly. Often, I would say something that disturbed you, and you would run away."

"Petra, I'm sor-"

"No. It is not your fault. I did not know the words. I…knew the words, but not in a way you knew them. When I would say them in my broken Fodlanese, you would run and cry. That… That gave me much sorrow, and I began to fear that I would never reach you. What kind of lover cannot tell their love of their heart? So I studied dutifully, but still…"

Petra dropped her hand, looking away. Bernadetta grabbed her jaw and pressed their foreheads together.

"Please don't think that." _ Say something better, Bernie! _ "Y-You… I'm sorry, but…" Her tears blocked her words. Petra's rough thumbs wiped them away, gentle and calming.

Bernadetta took a deep breath.

"I've grown from our school days. I'm not scared of everything. A-And I could never be afraid at you, Petra. You...you're my everything. Y-You keep me safe and make me feel as though someone like me can be brave. When I'm frightened, I turn to you, because I know I'm safe with you. Y-Your Fodlanese has gotten so much better, it really has. But even if it wasn't, I'd still trust you and love you because...b-because…"

Another deep breath. She had to say this properly.

"In Fodlan, we have a saying. 'Actions speak louder than words'. It m-means that what you do is more important than what you say. That's the case with you. Th-Through everything, you've always been so kind and gentle to me. You've always thought of me and my comfort. And you've never, ever done anything to upset me on p-purpose."

She swallowed back the rush of tears.

"You don't need to tell me you love me, because you show me that you do, every day. So p-please, don't be afraid. Please."

Petras eyes widened, and Bernadetta felt her swallow through her fingers.

"You mean this truly, my lamb?" Her voice was so soft and tremulous. Bernadetta nodded desperately, and Petra's eyes softened with relief. "Let me kiss you, please."

Bernadetta tugged at Petra's collar and crashed their lips together. Petra's mouth was demanding, and she matched it with her own desperation - _ please don't be scared, please don't be scared, please don't be scared… _

Their lips broke, and Bernadetta was gasping for air, but she had to say it. Fear didn't suit someone as wonderfully brave and gentle as Petra.

"I love you," she laboured between breaths. "Nothing will change that."

"I love you too, my sweet lamb. That will also not change." Their lips met again, calmer. When Bernadetta pulled back, the mischievous grin had returned to her wife's face.

"Wh-What?"

"As you mentioned, my words are...not so important as my actions." Petra lifted her lips to Bernadetta's ear. She shuddered at the warmth and grasped at strong shoulders.

"Let me show you how much I love you."

They left their books, and their fears, at the table for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> they fuckin oh lawd


End file.
